Sing Me A Song
by yauksiei
Summary: A huge handful of drabbles. Slash, H/W. Other info inside! My first Holmes fic! Enjoy! AU, some OOC. Rated to be safe.
1. Introduction

**Introduction**

In this story, I plan to write about 68 chapters. This may change, but for now it's the number I counted.

I wrote this introduction to say a couple of things. It won't be long, and the first chapter should be along shortly.

Ok, first off! At the beginning of each chapter, there is an **AUTHOR'S NOTE **at the top. PLEASE READ THAT! It is some notes on the story and the song that relates to it.

Second! I will put the song title before the author's note. I highly recommend that you listen to the song while you read it. Personally I think it's better.

I think that's all for now, except for a couple more things:

This fanfiction is slash, HolmesxWatson. If this offends you in any way, do not read this!

And finally, the list of couples: of course, as mentioned, H/W. Sometimes it is one-sided with either MaryxWatson or HolmesxIrene.

Also, the disclaimer which will be here for the entire story: I do NOT own any songs used, or Sherlock Holmes and its characters. Sherlock Holmes belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and the songs belong to the artists.

WARNINGS: Slash, drug abuse, some dark parts and some…really strange parts where you just stare at the screen with a 0_0 face.

Yep, that's all! Enjoy the story! The chapters are not connected in any way!

--Yauksiei


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay first chapter is here!!! I hope you guys like this, and I also hope that you read the Introduction!**

**Song: Thank You by Dido**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know that there were no buses in the 19****th**** century. Just think of a hansom. And there weren't any phones. (Right? I'm pretty sure. Oh well I'm really stupid) oh and I know that Watson doesn't have a picture of Holmes on his wall. So yeah. If you're going to listen to the song while reading this, that's just some points I wanted to cover.**

**Summary: Watson has had a bad day…again. But there is always one person who can cheer him up. Guess who! Takes place after Mary's death.**

* * *

Watson woke up. His head hurt badly, and he really didn't want to rise. He looked at the clock, and groaned. He had work, didn't he?

Slowly, he rose, and looked out the window. The morning rain had fogged it up, and he couldn't see the streets of London at all. With a sigh, he dressed and did the rest of his usual routine.

By the time Watson got downstairs, the morning tea had gone cold. He took a sip, and saw some bills he had forgotten to pay again. The headache he had acquired worsened. He shouldn't have drank so much at the club last night. But he couldn't help it. Mary's death was still fresh in his mind, and he would rather expel the melancholy thoughts, and lately work wasn't the distraction he needed.

Watson went out to go to work and found that the hansoms had already filled with passengers. He sighed, and began walking.

Then he heard a familiar voice.

"Watson! Get on up here old boy!"

Watson turned, and couldn't help but smile.

Holmes' voice and face were refreshing, and sent a vibrant of colour to that grey morning. He hadn't seen his friend in what seemed like an eternity. He eagerly climbed into the hansom with his friend, and Holmes told the driver the address for Watson's clinic.

The two made idle conversation, and Watson felt a surge of happiness, an emotion that had been foreign to him since Mary's….well.

Anyway, even with the hansom ride, Watson was still late, and got a little scolding after he waved Holmes goodbye. The headache came back, and he got to work.

***************

Finally, Watson came through the door to his home.

"Good evening doctor. You look gorgeous."

Watson jumped and saw Holmes there, smiling a little in greeting. It was strange to see him smiling like this. But it was nice all the same.

"How did you get in?" he asked his detective friend.

"The housekeeper," Holmes said, his tone light, "You're soaking wet. Here."

Watson was handed a towel, and their hands brushed. He could have sworn his face had turned red, and his heart had quickened. But why? Why was Holmes the only person in the world at the moment in his vision?

Before he could try and think further on it, Holmes had him go to his room and get some dry clothes on. When Watson got back down, Holmes had the housekeeper pour some tea. He sat down on the settee and Watson joined him. It was silent for a moment before Holmes broke the silence.

"I haven't seen you in ages. You look like you've been run over by a horse."

Watson chuckled wryly, "What happened to me looking gorgeous?"

Holmes rolled his eyes slightly. (Of course that sounds strange, but then again, Holmes _was _a strange man.) "I was merely being facetious, Watson."

Watson smiled a little. He didn't smile much lately. But Holmes always had a way of making his mouth perk up and push away the raincloud over his head whenever he needed it.

"You haven't smiled in a while."

Watson looked back up into those striking grey eyes. He shrugged. A regular person off the street could realize that. He looked much older these days.

"I have my reasons," was all he said. Thankfully, Holmes got the message and didn't press the sensitive chord.

"Well, I thought you needed some company," Holmes sighed, getting up, "You looked like you needed it today."

"That's…kind of you."

Holmes chuckled, "You sound shocked. Am I not your friend Watson?"

Something flashed in the pools of grey before disappearing again. Watson couldn't pin point what it was, but he hadn't liked it. So he quickly said,

"Yes, you are. It's just…you're usually not this caring and…sensitive. Did I hit my head somewhere?"

Holmes shook his head, "No dear Watson, you didn't."

"Maybe you're sick?" Watson stood and felt Holmes' forehead.

Suddenly, he gave a surprised gasp and fell back onto the settee.

_W-what the hell?! Was he waiting for that?! _He thought in shock.

Holmes was _kissing him_. Right there on the settee! This was unexpected, even for him!

_But…it sort of feels…_

Watson's eyes fell closed and he felt himself returning the kiss.

…_Nice._

Suddenly, the headache was gone. The bills weren't there. Mary never existed. It was just them.

The fact that Watson had had a horrible day (besides the hansom ride) was irrelevant.

The kiss made it all better.

* * *

**That was….terrible. I personally don't like it. -_- Sorry, this is my very first Holmes fic, so please go easy on me! Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Next chapter is here! I know, it's all at once, but I figured hey, I have a list of songs, a head full of ideas, why not just keep going?**

**Song: Teardrops on My Guitar by Taylor Swift**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know that back then they didn't have cars and Holmes didn't play guitar. And also that Holmes has already met Mary. And Watson's name is not Drew! I thought this song fit these two PERFECTLY! I almost cried when I thought about it, I really did lol. Anyway, I won't keep you waiting any longer, TIME FOR THE STORY!**

**Enjoy! (or try to)**

* * *

It was a nice sunny day, perfect for couples to walk around in the streets.

Today, Sherlock Holmes had just finished a case, and was walking back home to Baker Street with his friend Watson.

"I can't wait for you to meet her Holmes!" Watson was saying with a big smile, "She is absolutely amazing!"

"By the way you talk about her, I'd say she is," Holmes responded in a light tone. Watson blushed a little and chuckled. Holmes gave a small smile.

But inside, he was aching. This Mary Morstan…she sounded really magnificent. Everything that he wasn't: Civilized, sensitive, social, domesticated…and so much more.

Watson kept talking, and Holmes listened. On and on the good doctor went about Mary. Soon, his voice was tuned out, and Holmes just looked at him, the only person that existed in the world that he cared about. (Besides Irene, but she's not mentioned in this one.)

"…I think I've finally found the perfect woman, Holmes!" Watson beamed.

Holmes nodded slowly, "It sounds so."

They went inside, and Holmes picked up a book.

Watson walked by, and grey eyes drifted to him for a moment. Even with the cane, Watson walked with a perfect stride somehow. Holmes couldn't help but think:

_My God, he's beautiful._

Normally of course, Holmes would never have allowed an emotional distraction. He abhorred those thoughts, expelling them whenever they came up.

But with Watson, he would allow just one slip…

* * *

Watson had gone out to see Mary. Holmes was left alone in his room for the time being. He played his violin for a little while.

When Watson came back, he was still smiling hugely. He came into Holmes' room, and Holmes asked,

"How was it?"

"Great!"

Holmes nodded. Of course it was.

"Oh," Watson took out a folded piece of paper. "She wanted me to give this to you. She saw you once before. Remember on that case we did?"

Holmes nodded. He had seen her too. But at the time she was just a client. He didn't pay any attention to her personality in any way. He just automatically deduced things about her and that was all.

He unfolded the paper, and snorted.

It said:

_Don't worry, I'll take good care of him. I promise._

_Mary._

Holmes found himself thinking,

_You better._

Watson shrugged, not wanting to invade on what Mary said was private. He left the room to start the fire and have himself a nightcap.

Holmes crumpled up the note, and was left alone again. He dressed into some nightclothes and get himself ready for bed. He didn't want to face Watson at the moment. He didn't want to see that smile…that smile that _she _caused, and he didn't. He didn't want to see those beautiful hazel eyes which still held that happy light in them. The light that _she _ignited and he hadn't.

Holmes just lay there in bed, facing the ceiling. The emotional dam had broken, and he allowed the water to flow for just a little while.

How did this happen? How had the feelings for Watson grown to such an extent?

For once, Sherlock Holmes didn't have an answer.

_It just…happened, _he thought. Yes, some things turn out that way. And this thing turned out that Holmes had given Watson everything without meaning to. So much so that, if Watson wanted to, he could break Holmes with just a small gesture. Sometimes the detective still couldn't believe he had fallen so easily. He shouldn't have, but he did. He didn't know why, but it was what it was.

Holmes sighed.

_Mary, _he thought, his eyes closing finally, _if you could only see just how amazing he truly is…I'll let him go just because he's happy._

And that was the last thought he had before succumbing to sleep.

* * *

**I'm a bit happier at this one. My creative juices were flowing better. Well, review please! Chapter three is coming up since I have no homework tonight and I really want to get a good start on this one!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4's up!**

**Song: Here Without You by 3 Doors Down**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know that Watson isn't a woman! This is set where if Holmes ever died. How would Watson feel about it? ENJOY!**

* * *

_100._

100 days…

100 days since his heart had constricted. 100 days since his eyes welled with tears. 100 days since…

100 days since the name _Sherlock Holmes _had been carved into the lonely stone.

Watson knelt in front of the grave. He sighed, remembering how Holmes had looked so fearless in the eyes of Death as he tumbled down the Falls.

Fearless, and…

Watson took another shaky breath. He remembered how Holmes had looked at him one last time, love swirling in his eyes. It was a strange emotion to see in the man, but there was a first time for everything.

Well, for Holmes there wasn't anymore time. Watson cleared his throat and wiped his eyes vigorously. He knew that if Holmes was really watching him, he would roll his eyes at his tears. A humorless chuckle escaped Watson's lips. He could just _hear _Holmes say,

"_Come now Watson, get a hold of yourself!"_

He would say then when they were on a case. But other times, like when Mary passed away, he would be oddly consoling. He was such a strange man.

But Watson loved him for it. Even now, he could feel each aching beat of his heart as he continued to look upon the stone.

Holmes had kissed him for the first and last time before the incident, the night before. Being naïve to his feelings, he pushed him away. If only he had known…damn it, if only he could redo that kiss all over again…he could have shown Holmes…he could have…

Watson's vision blurred again, and he blinked the tears back.

_He would have deduced what I felt, _he thought, _he was such a brilliant man._

Most likely the most brilliant man the world had ever seen. Truly there will be no one as clever as Sherlock Holmes. (Irene is not mentioned!)

_Nor will there be any one as strange,_ Watson added mentally with another humorless chuckle. He stood, as it was getting dark already. He finally found his voice and spoke in a soft tone.

"Holmes…I'm sorry I pushed you away that night. You know I didn't mean it. I was just…surprised. And I was ignorant of my own feelings. I'm sorry. I hope that one day I can see you again, even if it's not here on Earth."

He stopped there. Something nagged him to go on though. Could he? Watson didn't know that he could with an even voice again.

But he took another deep breath, and finished,

"I admit, things are definitely not the same without you old boy. I guess I loved you more than I thought…"

There. He said it. He had never said it to Holmes' face before. And this was as close as he could get now, as Holmes' real face was buried deep down under Watson's feet.

"…maybe things will get better. I hope they do. But then again, that's all we can do isn't it, in the end?" Watson found himself continuing, "Well…I guess that's all for now. Goodbye old boy. See you soon."

Watson turned, and walked away a bit, before he felt a presence behind him. It felt very familiar, and he had to turn around.

He gasped.

For a split second, he could have sworn he saw Holmes, leaning against his grave, a small smile on his face.

And then, in a blink of an eye, he was gone.

Watson was without him again.

* * *

**I hate the ending. But whatever it's not my place to judge, it's yours! Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Ok chapter 4 was quite depressing. So, I think we should put on some more positive vibes!**

**Song: Colours of the Rainbow by Tune Up! And the ItaloBrothers**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had trouble with this one, because it would be perfect on both ends. But I just wanted to do one. So I thought it would be easier to write in Watson's POV, since Holmes is a very brilliant man and I wouldn't be able to write in his point, even in the third person. Sooo yeeeaaahh. I'm going to provide a summary, because I just feel like it.**

**Summary: Never has grey been so colourful to me.**

**ENJOY 8D!**

* * *

I never noticed how grey could be so…alive. Colourful.

Sure, I had seen it in its happy state when it had seen success, had seen someone shocked by its assumptions.

But never had I seen them like _this_. The cold front they usually put on had given way to a new spark I had never seen before…

"Watson, you've been staring at my eyes for a half an hour now. What is it?"

I shook myself from my reverie to find that I had indeed been staring at Holmes' eyes the whole time I was thinking.

"Nothing in particular," I lied.

But of course, Holmes gave me the usual look when he knew I was lying. Sometimes I curse his clever deducting skills.

"Come now," he said, "What is it you were thinking of?"

I didn't want to lie again and trigger another question, but I didn't want to tell the truth either. I mean, isn't thinking about your friend's eyes a little…odd? So, I kept my mouth shut, and hid my face behind the paper I held.

"Watson."

I ignored him.

"Watson."

Not answering!

"WAAAAATSON."

I jumped. He was right next to me. How did he get over here so fast? And so silent?

Oh well, just another thing about I lo---

_NO._

I realized that the thought I was just about to complete was much too far.

"What is it?" Holmes had a slightly amused look on his face. The grey eyes I had been studying had that spark in them still. How could I have not seen it before?

"Watson, what the hell is wrong with my eyes?"

"Nothing."

I answered too quickly. I didn't find the spark wrong though. It was just different. And it was very strange.

"I'm going to take a walk," I excused myself and grabbed my coat, hat and cane. I shut the door before Holmes could finish saying my name again.

* * *

It was raining as I made my way back to Baker Street, a full hour later. But even that amount of time couldn't stop my whirling thoughts.

I looked up in the sky for a moment. When I did, the image of those grey eyes came to me again. They wouldn't stop bothering me. I didn't know why they did. Certainly any change in those eyes didn't perturb me this much.

I went back inside and got back up to the sitting room. I found Holmes sitting in his chair, pipe in his mouth. He had a thoughtful look on his face. But immediately he looked at me, and asked,

"What is it?"

I knew what he was talking about. If he was going to go on about this, it was better to just come out with it. When Holmes had his mind set on something, he was hell bent on either solving it, or getting it.

So, I bluntly answered,

"Your eyes have a strange spark and it's somehow bothering me."

He looked at me strangely for a moment, and I noticed the colourful spark had doused for a moment before coming back when he said,

"You noticed it?"

I blinked. "Yes?" he knew about it?

"Only Irene saw it. She said it was colourful. I don't have a clue what she's talking about, I admit. But now I think I do."

I stared at him in confusion. "And what is your conclusion?"

He answered with a simple stride over to me and a kiss.

* * *

**I'm not happy with this one. I don't mind if you guys don't like it. I think the next one is happy too, I'll have to check my list. So, see yah next chapter!**


	6. Chapter 6

**YES! I was waiting for this chapter!**

**Song: Best Friend by Toy-box**

**AUTHOR NOTES: I personally think that this song would be great for this pairing. The refrain mostly though. No, Holmes isn't a woman. Just to let you know! XD Oh, and I also know that this isn't how Watson and Mary met. But whatever, it helps the plot along!**

**I decided on doing a summary:**

**SUMMARY: Holmes never had a better best friend. Well, he didn't before. But when the best friend falls for a woman, he has to take him back.**

**Enjoy! (or try to)**

* * *

It was a nice summer day. Doctor Watson was just returning from the clinic with a new "friend", Mary Morstan. They walked into Watson's lodging at Baker Street.

Sherlock Holmes, Watson's flatmate, watched them as they opened the door. A surge of unwanted jealousy coursed through his veins. He never admitted it, but his feelings for his best friend had grown. It was no surprise to even the Scotland Yard, who had figured it out. Holmes was shocked that they had figured out what 1+1 was as well in the same day!

The door behind him opened, and Watson's voice said cheerfully,

"Good afternoon Holmes! This is Miss Mary Morstan. Her father is a patient of mine."

Holmes turned, and looked at where Mary's hand was on Watson's arm.

_Twitch, twitch_.

Being uncharacteristically _human_, Holmes twitched in jealousy.

"Well, hello," he greeted the girl stiffly, deducting things about her as his trained mind always did. He finally decided that no, she wasn't worthy for Watson. No woman was.

But he knew who was.

He gave a stiff smile, and promptly took an ink pot. Watson and Mary looked confused.

"Miss Mary," he walked towards them. Watson looked slightly alarmed.

SPLASH!

Mary gasped as ink spilled over her head.

"HOLMES!" Watson cried. Usually, no matter what the situation, Holmes was the perfect gentleman! So, uh, _WHAT THE HELL?!_ (A/N: Yes, Holmes is a bit OOC in this, but I thought I would add a little spice of humor to this one, if it's not too much. And the song I'm using is very upbeat anyway!)

Holmes turned to Watson, "Yes?"

"WHAT ON EARTH HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU?!"

Mary marched out of there, not accepting any apology from Watson. The good doctor rounded on Holmes,

"HOLMES, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

Holmes rolled his eyes, "Quite obviously Watson, I spilled ink on her."

"WHY!?"

"Because I didn't like her."

Watson groaned. "You're such a _child_!"

Holmes shrugged, "I thought she wasn't worthy of you either."

Watson glared at his friend.

No _way _was he _ever _going to forgive him for this…

* * *

"Forgive me now?"

"Yes!"

Holmes smirked and kissed him again and again. It only took one grudging confession from him, a small peck of the lips, and _voila_! Not only was he forgiven, but he now had what he wanted.

And got to see him _naked _too.

Sometimes, Sherlock Holmes could be human in the most childish of ways. Most people would hate him for it.

But John Watson wasn't most people. And Holmes wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

**Gah, I suck at endings! Sorry if this one sucked a bit. But I thought it would be kind of funny to let Holmes' child side come out. Review please!**


	7. Chapter 7

**This song I think is pretty good with this couple.**

**Song: All the Same by Sick Puppies**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just added this to my iPod. I think that if you listen to it, it makes sense with this couple in Holmes' point of view. This is going to be in third person though. This drabble pretty much surrounds the refrain of the song.**

**Enjoy! (or try to)**

* * *

"Holmes, I'm going to live with Mary."

"Fine."

"…fine?"

"Fine."

Watson looked confused. He had expected that sad face to show. It was uncommon, but since Holmes had found out about his and Mary's relationship, he had been sulking a bit more than usual.

But now, there was…dare he say it, an _amused _look in the detective's eyes. Watson was even more confused, but he took it as a good sign. Perhaps Holmes was getting over it like he had hoped.

So, he packed up and left, saying goodbye.

* * *

Holmes chuckled to himself. He knew this story. It had happened many times in this order:

First: Watson would meet a woman. They would be closer than mere friends.

Second: The relationship would get serious, and Holmes would meet the girl.

Third: Watson would go off to live with her.

Fourth: a month at tops later, Watson would come back broken hearted for some sort of reason, Holmes would console him (as best he could; he wasn't much of a consoler) and everything would go back to normal.

All he had to do was wait. He didn't like to wait though. Without Watson in the house, it just wasn't the same…but he would have to be patient.

* * *

*3 weeks later*

The door opened. Holmes looked up from the fire, putting down his violin.

"Watson, what are you doing here? And with your luggage?"

Watson had a deep frown on his face, "Mary…I don't think she's right for me."

"Oh?"

"I felt like I had to hide a side of me from her. The one that was from the war. And…I don't like to hide half of me from someone."

Holmes chuckled. That was Watson. When he loved someone, he was loyal to them, and he would want to give everything to them. But if that wasn't what the other wanted, then it wouldn't work out. Watson was too honest and had such a guilty conscience. And in this case that conscience could only handle 3 weeks.

"Holmes…"

"Hm?"

"Will anyone ever love all of me?"

Holmes smiled a bit. "Yes. I know that someone actually."

"Really? Who?" Holmes almost laughed as he saw that Watson had already figured it out.

They kissed.

The fourth step was completed.

* * *

**I am a bit more satisfied with this one…oh, and by the way, THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS, ALERTS, AND FAVORITES! I love you guys!!! *hugs* Now please keep them coming and review pleeeeaaasssee!!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Song: Cry by Rihanna**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: OH MY GOSH, THIS SONG IS PERFECT! I'm sorry, it's just if you listen to it and think about this couple from Holmes' POV, it's just…PERFECT! I had to write it tonight!!! I'll do my best to keep everyone in character!!! **

**Enjoy! And thanks for the reviews!**

* * *

Holmes didn't like emotions. He abhorred them. Especially _love_. That was the biggest distraction of them all. That was why he had locked up his heart and was only a brain, a very brilliant brain, capable of only calculations and deductions.

He never let anyone into the _human _part of himself. He didn't need to, nor had any inclination to _want _to.

But then…_he _came…

And everything changed.

He started _feeling_. He had felt emotions such as this when he was with Irene, but that was basically what he thought was just the pull of two amazing minds, the thrill of being challenged. And there was nothing Sherlock Holmes had loved more than a challenge.

Well, there was nothing he _had _loved more.

He should have never let himself fall for him. Never. He never should have let their lips touch, let their hands entwine. He never should have let himself _feel _the warmth of his skin, his lips, his very presence.

Holmes should have kept his heart locked up. But somehow, John Watson had found the key.

The doctor unlocked the chains that bound the human in the machine, and took the human's hand, leading him into the light. Holmes couldn't help but love him now. It was too late to reverse it.

Holmes had never felt like this before. He had never experienced such heartbreak, such sadness in all his years. Even when he said goodbye to Irene, it had never felt this bad. Somehow, Watson had yanked his heart out of his chest, and put it on his sleeve with just three words.

Then, with three words, he took the exposed and vulnerable heart, and crushed it, making it bleed.

How?!

That was the question. How. How did Holmes let his feelings slip? How did he fall like this? How did Watson make him feel like this?! It should have remained a simple companionship, nothing more.

But it wasn't. It couldn't be now.

"Mr. Holmes?"

Holmes was snapped out of his thoughts. "Hm?"

"You have been in that room for 2 weeks! I…"

"…_insist you have to get out!"_

Holmes twitched. Why must everything remind him of…of…

_Of…? _A voice in the back of his head mocked.

_Shut up._

"Mr. Holmes?"

"What?"

"At least _eat _something! You barely do so anymore!"

"…"

"Mr. Holmes? MR.—"

"_HOLMES!"_

Holmes' teeth clenched. Telltale wetness blurred his vision. To him, it was an unknown substance. But Watson's voice, with each word, with each memory, twisted the knife that had stabbed him in the heart. This wasn't him. Yet it was.

"MR. HOLMES!"

"Go away, Mrs. Hudson."

"Mr. Holmes, you sound…strange. Are you alright?"

The doorknob turned, but Holmes shouted,

"I'm fine! Just go away!"

The knob stopped. A sigh sounded, and footsteps faded with a muttering,

"Ever since the doctor left, he's been locked up in that room!"

Holmes wiped his eyes vigorously, telling himself to get a grip.

But the grip was icy and too forced. He lost it within 5 minutes.

No one could see him like this. Especially the one who caused it. It would ruin everything. His reputation, his now just a mere friendship with Watson, Watson and Mary's relationship…

Oh, if only those things didn't exist, if only just a moment! Then he and Watson could return to the old days that he guessed was forgotten in the doctor's mind…

_FLASHBACK_

_Christmas morning arrived. Holmes walked out of his room and read the paper like a normal day. He only came out of his room because Watson had insisted._

"_Holmes."_

_He looked up, "Hm?"_

"_Here."_

_Holmes blinked in shock. "A…present?"_

"_Of course! What did you think it was?"_

_In truth, Holmes rarely received gifts in his lifetime. His parents and brother had gotten him some when he was little, but with his anti-social nature, they didn't really know what to get him._

_Holmes took the wrapped gift, and opened it._

_He couldn't suppress a smile._

_Inside the box was a copy on the history of crime, the one he had wanted._

"_Thank you Watson."_

_Watson smiled, "I thought you would like it."_

"_But I didn't get you anything…"_

"_Oh, you can."_

"_How?"_

"_Look up."_

_Holmes looked at him in mild confusion, but he knew what it was even before he saw it above both of their heads._

"_Mistletoe," he whispered._

"_Mm-hm."_

_Holmes put the book on the table, and let Watson's arms pull him against the other's body, and into a gentle and deep kiss._

_END FLASHBACK_

(A/N: I'm not very good with flashback timings, but I thought that was pretty good, right? Oh well, I tried!)

Holmes' tears increased, and he took a deep shaky breath. He hated this. Why didn't he just look the other way like he always did? Why couldn't he?

He stood from his chair for the first time in 3 days. He might as well eat something…

He forced a straight composed face, and stepped out of the door.

It didn't matter what his heart was feeling. It would be locked securely away once more.

But, in the meantime, he wouldn't let anyone see him cry.

* * *

**I hoped I did ok on this one? It goes with the song I would think, right? Oh well, if you think you can do better (which you probably can) then I encourage another version of this!! Send me a message and the title so I can read it pllleeeaaassseee!**

**Now, go off and review! I will update when I get at least 2 or 3. But it would probably have to be tomorrow. STILL, REVIEW!! SORRY, I JUST HAD SUGGGAAARRR!!!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Ok, apparently I can't say that my story sucks anymore, as a reviewer isn't happy about it. Anyway, thanks for reviewing!!! I really appreciate it!!**

**Now, for the next chapter!!**

**Song: Your Body is a Wonderland by John Mayer**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just thought that this song really brought out the fluffiness in Holmes and Watson's relationship. So, yeah! I should warn people of some things…**

**WARNING: strong language, some sexual content, but not too much to turn this into a rated M fic. And OOCness may show. Yesh, I think that's it.**

**Enjoy! (or try to. Oh wait, I can't say that anymore…)**

* * *

Mrs. Hudson was out for the day, doing God knows what. For some reason unknown to both of them, she had taken Gladstone with her.

So, Watson and Holmes were all by themselves. Mrs. Hudson had made breakfast upon leaving, so they were eating that. It was raining that morning. Why the hell Mrs. Hudson would walk around in that weather was beyond them.

Holmes played his violin in hopes for temporary stimulation, as his mind always craved something to do, something to ponder on.

Watson took care of their dishes as always, being the clean freak he was. He came back into the sitting room to find Holmes was going into his room. No, not his own room. But Watson's room.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Walking."

Watson rolled his eyes, "No, I mean what are you doing in my room?"

"This is a lovely bed."

Watson groaned and went into the room. He found Holmes laying on his bed.

"This bed is big enough for two people, Watson," he smiled in a way that Watson didn't like. It was a devious smile, with a mask of innocence. He was up to something.

"Yes," the doctor nodded slowly, "I am sometimes a restless sleeper…can you please get off of my bed now?"

"Mm…no."

"Why not?"

"Come now Watson, it's noon now, no one is here, not even the dog…and you don't have your practice today either…"

Watson's eyes widened as he caught on to what exactly Holmes wanted to do. He gulped,

"Oh…_that_…"

"Now you catch on."

Watson cleared his throat, "I-I'm sure Mrs. Hudson will be back--"

"Not until dinner old boy," Holmes sat up, smirking now. Watson saw that some of his buttons were undone, exposing part of the beautiful muscular chest Holmes had. He gulped once more, twitching. Holmes had a point…no one was home…it was rainy, so there was nothing to do…and plus, they hadn't done this in such a long time…

"Fuck it," he finally said. Holmes laughed and pulled him into a kiss.

* * *

Throughout it all, Holmes realized some things about Watson he didn't bother to take note. Or he might have, but his subconscious refused to tell him for some reason.

Watson skin was a beautiful soft porcelain, and his lips tasted distinctly of chocolate, his tongue a strange bubblegum flavor. (A/N: did bubblegum exist back then? I don't know, I'm having a retarded moment XD) It added to the list of things he already loved about Watson.

As they lay there, Holmes' hand behind Watson's head and playing with the beautiful soft hair, it was a comfortable silence that both savored.

The door opened. Their eyes widened.

"Mr. Holmes? Dr. Watson?"

"Oh no," Watson whispered. Holmes shot up and dressed in a second. So did he.

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson!" Holmes opened the door. "Hello!"

"Why are you in Dr. Watson's room, sir?"

"Oh, I was just showing him something I accomplished." Holmes smiled a bit innocently.

Watson just nodded.

Mrs. Hudson just shrugged and walked into another room.

"We should have gotten out of bed as soon as it was over," Watson whispered.

"Now, now," Holmes chuckled, "I hate leaving right after."

"And why not?"

"Because," Holmes kissed his cheek briefly and whispered, "Your body is a wonderland to me Watson. I take every second I get to have."

Watson blushed slightly, and Holmes disappeared down the steps.

* * *

**Ok, not so fluffy as I had hoped…but review please!!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Ha ha, I think that this one will be a bit funny!**

**Song: I'm Still a Guy by Brad Paisley**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know that Watson is all civilized and honorable, but I'm just using the idea that he is a man and men are quite different from women. So yeah…and there is OOCness again. And I'm going to have lyrics from the song at the end. ONE MORE THING! There isn't romance in this one!!! I just thought a little humor snippet would be nice!! NEXT CHAPTER _WILL _be romance!**

_Lyrics __thoughts or emphasis_

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Oh John, look!"

Watson twitched. Again.

Mary _loved _the colour pink.

And she had decorated his study as such.

Watson gulped. He preferred the old colour…

"That's uh…I'm going out."

He retreated from the house, and went to Baker Street, where a _man _lived. He just had to see his friend at the moment to let off some steam.

When he knocked on the door, Holmes answered.

"Watson, what's wrong? You look very pissed off," the detective had an amused glint in his eye as he said this.

"I am pissed off Holmes," Watson growled, shutting the door behind him, "Mary…she…PAINTED MY STUDY PINK!"

Holmes was silent. Suddenly:

"...AHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHA!"

Holmes was _laughing_, rolling around on the settee.

"EVERYTHING IS PINK! MY DESK, MY CHAIRS, EVEN THE PARCHMENT AND PENS!" Watson shouted over Holmes' laughter.

"AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!" Holmes continued laughing for a good 5 minutes before calming down and saying, "S-sorry, it's just…_pink_? Is she _serious_?"

Watson nodded grimly.

"Why doesn't she just leave _you _to _your _study? She doesn't have the right to paint it, even if she is your fiancé!" Holmes shook his head.

Watson agreed full heartedly, "Yes, exactly!"

Holmes patted his shoulder, "I'm terribly sorry old boy. Maybe you would like some tea or perhaps some brandy?"

Watson sighed, "Brandy would be lovely."

* * *

"Oh…my…God…."

Watson's mouth was agape.

"No…nononononononono…."

Mary had done it again. She hung up girly paintings all over his study. The pink was bad enough!

"M-Mary, I would rather prefer other paintings," Watson said.

"Nonsense John!" Mary laughed, "It looks so much better this way!"

_To _you _maybe, _Watson thought.

_Knock, knock_!

Watson immediately shut his study door and went to answer the other one.

"Holmes!" he cried in shock.

Indeed, Sherlock Holmes appeared at the door with an amused smile on his face.

"I thought you would like something for your study," he held up the huge painting in his hands. (A/N: just pretend it's a painting that Watson wants)

Watson beamed, "Thank you!"

"Oh, so you prefer his things and not mine?" Mary joked.

It was silent.

Mary's smile started to fade,

"John?"

"…"

"_John_?"

"….."

"**John!**"

* * *

Mary looked hurt, "Why?"

Holmes chuckled, "You painted his study _pink_, madam. I don't think a _man _would like _pink _things." (A/N: sorry if you're a guy reading this who likes pink! I mean no offense to you!)

Mary rolled her eyes, "He didn't protest!"

"That's because you're his wife! What is he going to do? Mrs. Watson," Holmes put a hand on Mary's shoulder, "Watson, no matter what, is still a man. And a man like him does _**not **_like pink."

Mary looked at Watson, "Is this true John?"

Watson twitched, "Yes. I'm sorry."

Mary frowned. Holmes opened the study door, and promptly burst out laughing.

"AHAHHAHAHAHAHA IT'S WORSE THAN I THOUGHT! AHAHAHA!!!"

"OH SHUT UP!"

_Oh thank God…_

_I'm Still a Guy!_

* * *

**Like it? Hate it? I hope you liked it! Please review!!!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you for all of the reviews! I love you guys! *hugs***

**Song: Lithium by Evanescence**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I should warn you all right now, DRUG ABUSE IN THIS ONE! When I listened to this song, I just thought about Holmes wanting Watson, and his drug problems. I thought, why don't I just combine the two and add a chapter?**

**:) So enjoy!!**

* * *

He just wanted to let him _go_…

Why couldn't he just let go?

_You can let go, _a voice in the back of his head whispered, _you can let go of everything…_

His grey eyes fell on that velvet box.

_Do it…you know you want to forget…let your brilliant mind be distracted by something else…_

He grabbed the syringe.

* * *

_Knock, knock._

"Holmes?"

Watson opened the door, and gasped in shock.

"HOLMES!"

Holmes looked up. His blurry vision did not let him see who it was that shouted his name. But the voice was enough.

"John," he breathed. He usually never used Watson's first name, only when he really wanted his attention. Which was now. Which had been forever.

And which _will _be forever.

Watson knelt in front of Holmes' slumped form, and snatched the syringe from his friend's hands. He grabbed Holmes' shoulders, shaking him.

"Holmes, why would you do this?!" he demanded, "ANSWER ME DAMN IT!"

Holmes fondled Watson's cheek, earning a gasp. He said nothing to the question. He just knew Watson knew from the touch the reason why.

Holmes wanted nothing more than to forget the love, the longing he felt for Watson ever since…well, ever since he could remember knowing him. His beautiful eyes, his soft hair, his strong features and undying loyalty…he wanted to stay friends, he tried to tell himself to not love his companion, his only friend.

But the love never vanished. And so, Holmes needed an escape from the tormenting thought that Watson was married to someone else, loved someone else. The cocaine was there. And so he used it.

"I want to let go," he found himself whispering, "But I can't…John, I can't…"

Watson had never seen Holmes like this. He was always cold and indifferent, sometimes irritating. The drug was doing its damage. And he could only repair it one way…

Their kiss was passionate and filled with hidden feelings and desperation. Holmes' lips trembled.

It wasn't all of what he wanted, but for now, it would have to do.

* * *

**Was that good? I hope it was…review please!!!**


	12. Chapter 12

**This one is dedicated to my good friend, Judailuvr911!! As I recall, you like Nickelback!**

**Song: Savin' Me by Nickelback**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This song I think shows that Holmes is just a lonely soul in need of another to hold onto. Enter Watson! YAAAY! Sorry, I just had two cookies and a Butterfinger.**

**ENJOYYYYYY!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY FOR CHOCOLATE!!! XD**

* * *

Sherlock Holmes wasn't one for society. The world was full of things that just didn't interest him. And most people found him irritating anyway, even when he was on a case.

He was cold and anti-social. He didn't know right from wrong at times. And he preferred to be nothing but a deducting machine, not a human being. He thought of the body as but a vessel for his vast mind. Heart, soul, feelings? You can forget it when you're with him.

So overall, he sounds like a bastard, right?

Well, to many people, he was.

All but one.

Enter Doctor John H. Watson, former war surgeon and flat mate of Holmes. He has also been the detective's lover for about 7 months now. He wasn't just everyone else. He could see past all of the heartlessness, and see a lonely man. And at times that lonely man would break out from the cage that locked him up, like that Saturday evening.

It was around 7 o'clock. Watson was waiting for Holmes to come home from his boxing match.

Finally, the door opened, and Watson turned.

"Holmes? What's wrong?" he called softly.

Holmes looked very sad. It was a terrible sight to see in those beautiful grey eyes. Watson sat him down in a chair, and asked again what was wrong.

But he got no answer. Watson's brow furrowed.

"Sherlock?" he finally whispered.

Only then did Holmes even bother to look up.

"What's wrong?"

Holmes just shook his head and let it fall onto Watson's shoulder. He then whispered,

"Just don't talk please…"

Watson obediently stayed silent. It was a good 10 minutes before Holmes finally spoke in a soft voice:

"What am I to you?"

Watson was taken by surprise by the question. "What are you to me?" he echoed.

"Yes. Just answer the question."

"Hm…" Watson tried to put it into words what he felt. "I can't really describe it…" he admitted after 5 minutes, "I just really love you."

Holmes seemed to take comfort in that thought. Watson tried to further tried to lift his sudden depression by lifting his face and giving him a soft kiss.

"Whatever happened," he breathed, "Don't let it trouble you. Because I'll still be here to love you no matter what it is."

"John…"

Another kiss.

* * *

**It almost always ends with that, doesn't it? XD anyway, I don't know if that really fit with the song, but I'm listening to it while I write, and it's what my mind came up with! So review pllleeaaasseee!!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Ah, my favorite band!!**

**Song: Taking Over Me by Evanescence**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Another Lonely!Holmes. I have too many of these…but there are just so many songs that fit it! Grrrrr! Anywaaaaaay, this is quite sad, at least that's what I'm going for. I hope I can manage!!!**

**Enjoy! And thanks for the reviews!!**

* * *

Why did he choose _her _over him? What did she have that he didn't?

_Domesticity for one, _a voice said, _politeness, sensitivity, neatness, she's not a total ass, and oh! She's a woman too!_

Oh. Those things. Right…

Holmes sighed. He had been laying in his bed for over an hour now, trying not to think of Watson, who had recently moved out with his new wife, Mary. Holmes knew that he should be happy for Watson, but right now he just wanted to shove a pistol down Mary's throat.

And then punch Watson in the face.

The doctor had obviously either didn't love Holmes anymore, or just denied the whole thing. He used to show his feelings, used to hold his hand, even kiss him at times with comforting and loving words.

But now, that was all a memory. A distant memory that was painful to think about. But his mind forced him to do so, up to the brink where he just couldn't stand it.

He dreamed of Watson, saw him everywhere. The man had become a necessity to him, just like food and oxygen. He hated himself for it.

_Stop it! _he finally forced the thoughts away and stood. He walked passed the mirror and stopped, looking back.

Watson smiled back at him from behind. Holmes groaned.

"Go away!"

"Why?"

Holmes blinked, and turned around.

Watson was _there_. Really, mother fucking _there_. (A/N: I had warned in the beginning about language!!)

How did Holmes know? Because usually if it was just a trick of his mind, Watson wouldn't have been behind him, and he would have faded away by now.

"When did you get here?" Holmes finally asked.

"Just after you stood."

"How come I didn't see you?"

"I had just walked into the door, which would be over there," Watson pointed.

Holmes sighed, "Why are you here?"

Watson shrugged, "I just wanted to see you. Is that so wrong?"

"Yes actually, it is. It's not helping right now."

"Not helping what?"

Holmes ignored the question, "And shouldn't you be home to your wife?"

"My wife," Watson chuckled, "She was never my wife. I've been a fool, Holmes."

Holmes blinked. "What?"

"I said I've been a fool. Right when I was about to go through with the wedding, just a week before, the memory of you came o me. And it didn't leave. I realized that I would give Mary my heart yes, but I would give my soul to you."

Holmes was shocked, to say the least.

"Can you forgive me?" Watson whispered, leaning closer.

"Yes," was the immediate answer.

Their lips were about to touch--

"MR. HOLMES! WAKE UP!"

* * *

Holmes' eyes shot open. His heart broke.

It was all a dream.

* * *

**Wow, I hate myself now. Please review!!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Song: Tell Her by Lonestar**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I thought this would be a good fic for a bit of humor, OOCness, and romance!! YAY HAPPY ENDINGS! 8D**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Lestrade was a busy man that morning. Someone was just murdered and he was trying to figure out who naturally. He had to call in our favorite consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes.

"I will help you," Holmes said, "On one condition."

Lestrade looked surprised. Holmes never asked this before. But he needed the help, so he asked,

"What is it?"

"I need some advice."

"…"

Three words came to Lestrade's mind: What. The. Hell.

Holmes never, under _any _circumstances, asked for advice, most of all _Lestrade_. But in truth, he had no one else. Sure, Mrs. Hudson was a woman for advice, but he never had a chance to be alone with her really. When he was free, she was busy, and when she was free, he was busy doing God knows what.

"Mr. Holmes, I don't know about Science or anything like you do--"

"No, not like that. I need love advice."

"…_what_?"

_What _was _right_. Lestrade had heard some strange things come from Holmes' mouth, but this took the cake!

Holmes looked slightly nervous. "I just need someone, alright?! Now do you want me to help or not?!"

"W-what is the problem?"

"We had a fight last night and I don't know how to make it right again."

"What was the fight about? And who _is _she anyway?!" whoever it was, they were insane.

"I won't tell, and we fought over my habits with something I won't tell you."

Lestrade rolled his eyes. "Just tell her that you're sorry!"

"I tried!"

"…really?"

"Yes!"

"_You _said sorry?"

"Yes!"

"…are you kidding me?"

"NO DAMN IT!"

Lestrade shook his head, "Holmes, if you really did say sorry and she still hasn't come around, then…dare I say it…show her that you really care for her. That means showing her how you _feel_."

Holmes nodded, "Thank you."

Lestrade shook his head. "That's enough strangeness coming from you for one day. Now for the case."

"Alright."

Holmes solved it within 5 minutes as usual, and walked out with a spring in his step.

* * *

"Please forgive me?"

Holmes was out of breath. He had just spoken for a full 5 minutes on how much he cared and how much he was sorry.

"Holmes…" the voice was so soft. "Do you really mean that?"

"Yes I do…John."

Watson smiled, "Then yes, I forgive you."

They kissed softly.

"And by the way," Watson laughed, "Did you really go to _Lestrade _for advice?"

"He's good for some things, dear Watson. And it turns out he's not completely daft after all!"

Watson shook his head with a smile. "Did he even know it was me?"

"No. He referred to you as a woman."

"Ha! He should have referred to _you _as such."

Holmes just glared jokingly, and went back to playing his violin.

* * *

**Yay, happy endings! Now REVIEW! I haven't gotten any all night! :(**


	15. Chapter 15

**Song: Tourniquet by Evanescence**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: DRUG ABUSE ALERT!!!!! You thought that last chapter was the beginning of a happy age? Well, sorry, cause it's NOT! This song is so freaking suicidal and dark, that you are going to want to shoot me! Surprisingly, that's what I'm aiming for!!! Maybe some OOCness, I don't know!!! And some language too! YAY!!! 8D**

**ENJOY SUICIDAL!HOLMES**

* * *

He lay there on the settee, ready to give up. A syringe was stabbed into his arm, and a lifeless look shone in his grey eyes.

He couldn't go on. This love was killing him. Literally. God, what had happened that made him lose his brilliant mind? He was sick and tired of his heart constantly calling for him. He just wanted it to END!

But every time he tried to cease the feeling, the more it grew, and more irritated and hurt he felt. And he hated himself even more for letting _him _slip away.

The thoughtlessness returned, and he was in bliss for a few moments.

But then it went away again. He longed for it to return. It was all he had now. He wanted to shoot _him _and yet he wanted to cry into his chest at the same time. He never cried before, but there was always a first time for everything, right?

But he didn't want time. He wanted to cut it short. But so far, he was denied it.

Groaning in pain and sorrow, he found the strength to stand. His mind was whirling, the stimulation he craved.

_Fuck stimulation, _he thought, _I can't believe I'm thinking this, but I don't have any use for it now! Damn it John, WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?!?!?!!?!_

He grabbed a knife, and, not really knowing what he was doing, slashed his wrist. He didn't feel a thing.

Hm…maybe again?

No…well, how convenient. He didn't even need to feel it!

SLAM!

The door opened.

"HOLMES!"

The knife was taken away.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

Holmes looked up to see Watson bandaging his wrist, anger in his eyes.

"Hm…" was all Holmes said before he bluntly whispered, "Fuck off Watson. I don't want you in my life anymore."

Though he would give anything for the opposite. But all he wanted was to let go of this love. So he had to expel the object of it first.

Watson looked shocked, "Holmes, how much did you have tonight?"

"A lot."

"Then shut the hell up."

A tourniquet was made for his arm.

But now for his heart.

* * *

**0_0 wow…I can't believe I wrote that! That was so OOC, a crappy ending…GEEZ! But review please!!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Song: Lips of an Angel by Hinder**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: When I listened to this song, I just got images of Holmes at Watson's door and something bad happening to him, and how Watson wished that they could be together. I'm home sick from school, so I'm updating as much as I can. **

**Enjoy!! And thanks for all of you reviews! Sorry for the little wait!**

* * *

Watson couldn't sleep for some reason. It was 10 o'clock on a Wednesday. He sat on the settee, trying to focus on the book held in his hands. But he couldn't.

Mary was sleeping in their room. Lucky her, she could sleep…

_Knock, knock._

Who could be calling at this time? (A/N: I read in the books that it could be calling when you rang someone's doorbell or knocked.)

Watson put down the book, and opened it quietly. He gasped.

"Holmes?"

Holmes was indeed standing there, and Watson gasped again as he saw tears cascade down his face. Holmes never cried unless something very bad happened.

"Holmes, what's wrong? Why are you here so late?" Watson had to whisper so he wouldn't wake Mary. "Is everything ok?"

Holmes shook his head, "N-no W-Watson…"

Watson quietly led him into the house, and shut the door silently. He invited Holmes to sit down and bade him to whisper, which the detective did.

"M-Mycroft…h-he was p-poisoned…t-the killer got i-into his w-window, a-and someh-how got t-to his d-drink…and…and…!"

"Shhh, Mary's sleeping upstairs," Watson shushed him gently, "She wouldn't like you being here so late."

Holmes nodded, "O-of course, m-my apologies W-Watson…"

Watson swallowed. Despite the situation, his eyes flickered to Holmes' beautiful lips as they whispered his name. His voice was so sweet when he whispered…

"Holmes," Watson whispered, "I'm so sorry about your loss. Is there anything I can do?"

Holmes sniffed, "N-no, t-that's alright…I have t-troubled y-you e-enough…"

"Don't say that Holmes, I'm your friend, and Mary doesn't have a clue that you're here," Watson patted his friend's shoulder.

Suddenly, Watson found himself holding Holmes and rubbing his back. He didn't blame Holmes for crying. Even the great Sherlock Holmes had loved ones, though he didn't want to admit it. Mycroft was his _brother_…

"John," Holmes' voice interrupted his thoughts, and shocked him to the core. He had _never_, in all his years with him, heard Holmes' sound so…fragile. It made him weak himself. Again, his name sounded so amazing when it came in that whisper from that man…

"Yes?" Watson managed to whisper back.

"…thank you."

Watson smiled and nodded, "What are friends for?"

And so they sat in silence, Holmes still quietly crying into Watson's shoulder.

Watson held onto him tighter.

Holmes made it so hard to be faithful…

* * *

**Review please!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Song: I Won't Say (I'm in Love) by Various People That My iPod Won't Show To Me XD**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh my gosh, as soon as I heard this song, I thought of it in Watson's POV. No Lonely!Holmes for a while Yaaay! And I thought that Mary and Irene could come into this more and help out! So enjoy!**

* * *

Watson was reading the morning paper. He never counted on Holmes coming in.

Well, he did, but not _shirtless_.

The doctor gulped, and hid his red face behind the paper.

"Good morning Watson," Holmes' voice was cheery, "Guess who is coming over today?"

"W-who?"

"Ms. Morstan and Ms. Adler!"

Watson gaped, the paper dropping. "_Irene and Mary?"_

"Yes! Now, I just need to find a shirt…" Holmes looked around, and went into Watson's room, saying, "Watson, can I borrow a shirt? Fantastic!"

Watson rolled his eyes. He would let it slide just this once…

* * *

Later on, Irene, Mary, Holmes, and Watson were all at the table eating lunch.

Holmes finally popped himself on the head and excused himself for a brief moment. He disappeared up the steps to his room.

Immediately after the door closed, Irene and Mary turned to Watson.

"Well John," Mary giggled, "I never expected you to move on so fast! I'm proud of you!"

"What?" Watson blinked.

Irene laughed, "Don't play dumb! So tell us, how long has this been going on?"

"How long has _what _been going on?"

The women looked at him in confusion. "You really aren't…?"

"Aren't what?"

Irene turned to Mary, "Is he _serious_?"

Mary shrugged, "Apparently so…"

Watson looked from Mary and Irene. "What are you two talking about?"

"You're in love with Holmes," they said bluntly.

"…I beg your pardon?"

"You're thinking about him right now!" Irene claimed.

Mary nodded, "You can't hide it from us, John. I used to be your wife, and Irene has outsmarted Holmes _twice_."

Watson gaped, "I'm not in love with _him_!"

Irene patted his shoulder, "Doctor, deny it all you want, but you have got it _bad_."

Watson cringed, "I-impossible."

"It's perfectly possible!" Mary said, "I may not like his antics, but he can be a good man when the circumstances demand."

Irene giggled, "Dr. Watson, we can both tell. He is practically the Earth and Heaven to you!"

Mary nodded, "If you are denying your feelings, you're denying yourself. Admit it, you love him!"

Watson shook his head wildly, "Get off my case _please_. It's not true!"

"Say it!"

"I won't say it!"

"_Say it!_"

"I will _NOT _say that I'm in love with my best friend!!"

Irene and Mary finally groaned to each other, "He's not saying it!"

"And when did you two become such good friends?!" Watson demanded.

"Since we vowed to get you two together," Mary smiled.

"Since you vowed…? WHAT?!"

Irene smiled, changing the subject back. "Just say it, doctor."

"Yes," Mary smiled wider, "It's ok that you're in love, John. No need to be proud."

Watson shook his head, "I won't."

The women giggled when they heard him mumble:

"…out loud."

At that moment Holmes came back downstairs.

* * *

**This one didn't cover everything about the song, but it gets the main points I think. Review please!!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Song: Crash by Daughtry**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I would like to thank my reviewers for being so kind to me! I think that this song fits in quite nicely with Holmes and Watson. But I should do something…**

**WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT! Not enough to be rated M though. IF THIS OFFENDS YOU IN ANY WAY, THEN PLEASE DON'T READ!!! Oh, and major OOC on Holmes' part. Though I think he would act this way in this situation, ne?**

**Now then, on with the chapter! ENJOY!**

* * *

How they got this way he wasn't sure. But that thought had been thrown out the window as they crashed together in a tangle of limbs. He had never felt so _good _in his life--

"_John…_"

The kisses just wouldn't stop. The doctor wouldn't dare. He would punch him if he did--

"John, _right there!_"

That was the spot. This would be the death of him, considering how incredibly fast his heart was beating. He would have a freaking _heart attack_--

"_Nnngh!!_"

He felt entirely **human **at that beautiful moment, the machine having broken down after the _second _their lips touched. How did Watson have such an effect on him he'll never know. But it just felt _so damn __**wonderful**_and he could only think 'please don't stop!'--

"JOHN!"

And he released, the thoughts going away, the whole fucking _world _disappearing. He vaguely heard his name being called as well into his skin, and finally felt the amazing fulfillment.

They collapsed back into the sheets, panting their lungs out.

And he couldn't help but whisper into the other's ear:

_"Do it again."_

* * *

**Review?**


	19. Chapter 19

**Song: Come Cryin' to Me by Lonestar**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: After that last chapter, I thought I would tone things down a bit and give some good old fashioned hurt/comfort! When I heard this song, I just **_**had **_**to put it in here!**

**WARNING: Mary is a bitch in this one. Just because she is, doesn't mean I think as such. It's just for the sake of the fic, ok? =)**

**So enjoy all you readers!**

* * *

Watson couldn't stand the sight.

_She was with another man._

He slammed the door, and heard two surprised gasps from behind it. He ran off, not letting himself go back to her as she called his name.

* * *

_BAM! BAM! BAM!_

Whoever was at the door, they really wanted to get the hell in. So, Sherlock Holmes opened the door, and his eyes widened.

"…_Watson?_"

Watson had tears in his eyes, his hair was disheveled, and he looked cold and miserable. Holmes had never seen him like this.

"What _happened_?" Holmes let him in, shutting the door.

"She's having an affair Holmes." Watson didn't need to say who 'she' was.

Holmes frowned, "Well, you were as well."

"I-I know, but it still hurts," Watson shook his head.

Holmes sat him down, "Then you came to the right place, dear Watson."

A cool hand brought Watson's head to Holmes' shoulder. He cried as quietly as he could, because God forbid Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs and saw them like this, Holmes gently setting Watson down onto his lap and running his hands through the doctor's hair in a loving way.

Watson whispered, "Thank you."

Holmes hummed good naturedly. (A/N: sorry, I forgot to mention slight OOCness.) "Haven't I always told you, whenever you need someone, I'm always here."

This was true. On countless occasions Holmes whispered those words in his ear. And every night when Watson wasn't there, 221b's sitting room light was always on, as if waiting for someone to come back.

Holmes would always be there, as a best friend and lover.

And there goes Mary's memory.

* * *

**Review please!! I hope it was good?**


	20. Chapter 20

**Song: 7 Things by Miley Cyrus (0_0 *shudder shudder*)**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Personally, I really don't like Miley Cyrus. She's terrible. However, by some strange way, this song ended up on my iPod. I blame one of my brothers. And surprisingly enough, this is the one song that's good I think. And it fits. When I thought about it, Holmes is vain, insecure, he loves Watson but he likes Irene, he gets Watson pissed off, but he can also make him smile, leaving Watson all confused about his feelings at times. The only thing wrong is the friends part…maybe he can act like Irene sometimes? I don't know. And then when it all comes down to it, Watson can't deny that Holmes is Holmes, and he wouldn't have it any other way.**

**So here it is! Enjoy!**

* * *

The paper was empty, and ready for the pen's ink to sink into it. The title was written:

_7 Things I Hate About Sherlock Holmes_

Oh yes, he had had enough of that man. And if he didn't have _some _outlet for his irritation, he would _explode_.

Now, what to write? There were plenty of things, but he had to think of the top 7, otherwise it wouldn't fit on just one paper, and Holmes would find it. And Watson knew what he would do. He would give him an amused look and make a childish comment. Watson couldn't take another child act from the man.

The seven things came to his mind quickly.

_1. He's vain_

Oh yes he was. Holmes could be very conceited and had a knick for showing it.

_2. He's insecure_

Holmes was very threatened by his and Mary's relationship.

_3._

…

He almost didn't want to write it down. The very thought…it just hurt him plain and simple.

_3. He does love me, but he likes Irene as well._

Holmes still kept the photograph of Irene and would be caught staring at it from time to time. "Oh I was just thinking" his foot!

_4. He makes me mad, but he also makes me laugh, which leaves me completely confused on whether or not to punch him._

True. That one time in the carriage is a good example for instance…

_FLASHBACK_

_PUNCH!_

_"Ah!" Holmes put a handkerchief to his nose._

_"I knew she'd been engaged," Watson said grimly, "She'd told me."_

_Holmes sniffed and put the handkerchief down, "So that's no to the opera then."_

_It was silent for a moment. Holmes took Watson's waistcoat in an attempt to take it for his own._

_But Watson grabbed it. "That's my waistcoat."_

_"I thought we agreed it was too small for you."_

_"I'd like it back."_

_"I thought we agreed."_

_They played a brief tug of war before Holmes let it go._

_Watson threw it out the carriage window._

_A smile crossed his lips._

_END FLASHBACK_

Ah yes…Holmes had a way of making him feel two opposite emotions at once. It could be quite confusing and irritating at times.

_5. He acts like a child._

This one had multiple effects. First, it could be amusing. But it could also be downright annoying. And then, at times it _could _hurt Watson a little bit. Sometimes if Holmes had just had a bad day or for whatever reason, such as drunkenness, he would point out things that he hated Watson for. It later turned out to not be true, but still it wasn't fun to listen to, especially when _he _was the target.

_6. He can be two people at once._

Ah yes. Holmes had the childish playful side, the other serious and unfeeling. And Watson wanted the childish playful side (when it wasn't as annoying as hell) because that was the Holmes who comforted him, who kissed him goodnight, hell, the Holmes who even said to him just yesterday:

_"I love you."_

Has Holmes said anything like that to anyone else?

_Hell. No._

And then finally:

_7. I hate him so much, I love him._

And that can be terrible as well. Despite Holmes' terrible actions, his insults, his games…no matter what, Watson couldn't help but love him for it…

The doctor put down his pen and hid the paper away. He couldn't allow Holmes to see this…the worst part of it being that it wasn't all he hated about him.

* * *

The next day, Holmes seemed a little more depressed than usual.

"Something wrong?" Watson finally asked when Holmes had picked up his violin, but was just staring at it.

"Hm? Oh no, I'm fine."

Wrong. Watson could tell when Holmes wasn't fine.

"No you're not. I know you Holmes. What is it?"

Holmes finally held up a slip of paper.

"I only find the last one somewhat appealing," he looked up at Watson's shocked face, "Do you like _anything _about me?"

Watson snatched the paper away. "H-how did you find this?!"

Holmes was silent about it, no matter how much Watson demanded for an answer. He finally just asked again:

"Do you like _anything _about me Watson? Anything at all? Because it seems to me that the list there isn't all that you hate."

Watson sighed as he added,

"I have heard you verbally complain before, but to see it in writing?"

He actually sounded _hurt_. Oh great. Why couldn't anyone else in the world make him feel anything?!

_Well, there is Irene…_

Watson grimaced slightly. He looked back at Holmes and sighed again.

"Fine, do you want me to list some things that I _do _like about you?"

Holmes nodded slowly.

"Ok…" he thought about it. There were actually a lot of things that he loved about Holmes. But he had to pick seven again.

And so the list began:

"Your hair."

Holmes blinked. His hair?

Yes, his hair. Watson found Holmes' colour black far more appealing than any other for some unknown reason.

"Your eyes."

The beautiful mix of brown and grey.

"Your intelligence."

Holmes was the most brilliant man he had ever met.

Watson smiled a bit. "Your kiss."

Holmes detected a slight blush at that. But it was true. Watson loved the way Holmes kissed him. He had a way of being soft and passionate at once.

"You _can _be two people at once, but though that can be irritating, it's still you."

Yes, the mixed personalities could be bad. But it was all of Holmes. And Watson wanted all of him, not just half.

"When we're alone and you hold my hand…it makes everything alright on a bad day."

Watson remembered a particular rainy day when he was in a terrible mood. But Holmes sat next to him on the settee and reached out. Their hands entwined, and he heard Holmes whisper,

_"Are you alright?"_

And the fact that he could still care after Watson had just yelled insults at his face only moments before that…just made him feel better.

"The fact that you show your emotions around me."

Holmes did allow the dam in his eyes to break and show Watson all that he felt. And Watson felt special, because it was only him that Holmes let his guard down around.

"And the 7th thing…"

Watson tugged on Holmes' collar and kissed him. He whispered against the other's lips,

"You make me love you."

* * *

**I think that's the longest one so far! Well, there you have it! Review please and thanks for the previous reviews and favorites! You guys are awesome!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Song: Where is Your Heart? by Kelly Clarkson**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I think this song is quite fitting because it shows that Holmes wants to love Watson, and he wants to be with him, but he is just not used to loving someone, and is having trouble showing his emotions. And when I listened to this song I realized that maybe one day Watson could get tired of it and say to him outright 'do you feel anything?' and yeah that thought turned into this chapter!**

**So enjoy!**

* * *

Sherlock Holmes wasn't used to showing emotions. So when he loved, the one who was the object of it would barely see any gesture that showed the heart inside the brain.

Now, Watson knew this. He knew that Holmes loved him, knew that Holmes wanted to be there and care for him.

But for the love of God, he could at least show it a little more! Watson wasn't demanding much. He didn't expect Holmes to just throw his heart out. All he wanted was just a little emotion to leak through those beautiful brown-grey eyes, if only for a moment, to show that Holmes felt _something_.

Watson, one day, decided to just ask the question right out. So he said:

"Holmes, what am I to you?"

Holmes was obviously a little surprised. He turned,

"What are you to me?"

"Yes. I would like to know."

Holmes was silent for a few moments, as if waiting for Watson to forget it and move on. When Watson still looked at him with an expectant look, he cleared his throat awkwardly and starting thinking about it.

Finally, about 20 minutes later, he opened his mouth.

"To put it quite frankly, I can't live without you Watson. As you know quite well, I have my vices. And you may not know, but I am grateful that you berate me for acting upon them. I can rely on you for anything as well. In all absolute truth, though I may be reluctant to show it, I do cherish you."

Watson smiled a bit.

Though no emotion was displayed, Watson knew Holmes meant it.

* * *

**Ok, I don't care if you guys yell at me for downgrading myself! THIS WAS AWFUL!!!! Anyway, if you would be so kind as to review, I would greatly appreciate it!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Song: Gay Boyfriend by The Hazzards**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ah ha! I think that this song is hilarious! Soooooo, I hope you can enjoy it! And I hope this makes up for my terrible job for last chapter.**

**ENJOYYYYY!**

* * *

Irene hated men. They were liars, they were ignorant, they were cheaters…sure, she could be all three, but men were _worse. _

Oh, if only she had someone who didn't stare at women when she talked to them, and had her level of intelligence! But what kind of man would that be?

Then it dawned on her.

She needed a _gay _man. One who wouldn't stare at her ass, but someone who would compliment on her dress and hair. And Irene wasn't one for affection, so he wouldn't try to sleep with her all the time and stare at her breasts when she was trying to say something to them. Ah, and the gay man would turn away from girls when they tried to hit on him.

But, she needed someone with her level of intelligence…

Then she met him.

Sherlock Holmes.

He had her level of intelligence, was similar in so many ways!

And, Holmes was _gay_. For a man who was _married_. It was so _perfect_!

When Irene and him first went out, it was silent, but not awkward. The man whom Holmes had a crush on wasn't there. (A/N: this never happened by the way. You could probably tell, but I'm just saying.)

When women past with flirtatious smiles, Holmes turned away with a disturbed look. Sometimes he was irritating, other times their conversation was…intriguing. And Irene hadn't had a good conversation in a long time.

But then, there was the second date.

The man whom Holmes had a crush on, Dr. Watson, was there.

And Holmes was staring at him the whole time.

Irene sighed. And they had been getting along so well…

Even sometimes a gay boyfriend isn't enough for Irene Adler. Even if that man is Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

**Ok so I know that Irene loves Holmes, but it was for the sake of the fic everyone. **

**Review please!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Song: The Bird and The Worm by The Used**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: When I listened to this song, I focused on Holmes' personality and found that the song describes just how much he needs Watson to save him from his lonely life. And I thought, why not make a chapter to this story that focuses on that need and loneliness? So, there may be just a hint of OOCness. I'm going to have Holmes harbor this pain that he keeps inside, just like his other emotions, because we all know he thinks of them as mere distractions.**

**OTHER WARNING THAT IS IMPORTANT: I am going to make up Holmes' childhood and history. Just to warn you so you don't yell at me =)**

**So, enjoy! I hope this one will be very good for you guys!**

* * *

_A big room belonging to a wealthy man. A boy is in the corner, his face filled with suppressed pain. The corner is dark, and his brown grey eyes were watery with unshed tears that he wouldn't let pass._

_A man is standing over him. The boy's mouth purses shut as he is kicked again. The man's words are slurred and incoherent. The boy isn't listening to the man._

_The boy's head is slammed against the wall. Blood seeps to the floor, but the boy keeps the cries of pain in his throat back. A woman enters, but she shows no sympathy for the child, as though he deserves it._

_But what did he do wrong…?_

* * *

"Holmes, get up!"

Sherlock Holmes opens his eyes. He was the little boy in the corner years ago. It was just a memory now, and yet he remembered it a lot lately, along with other memories that he would rather repress.

He looked up at his friend John Watson. "What is it Watson?"

"I'm going to go out for tea with Mary," Watson explained. He saw Holmes' jaw set. That was understandable. Holmes never liked his engagement.

But then there was something else.

A flicker of pain washed over the detective's face. He had never seen it before. But it disappeared as soon as it came and was replaced with a sleepy expression.

"You woke me up just so you could tell me something I would have deduced? Watson are you undermining my intelligence and ability to deduct things?"

Watson just pushed it to the back of his mind. It was probably nothing. So he rolled his eyes and just left.

Holmes closed his eyes as the door shut. The image of that little boy came back, the young 10 year old Sherlock backed up into that dark corner in his father's study…his mother coming in to tell his father that he should hurry up, as they had guests arriving that day. His mother didn't give him a second thought.

Holmes opened his eyes. The tiredness had gone by now. He stood, and picked up his violin.

_"You're alone…"_

_"You're a pathetic excuse for a son! I wish you were never born!"_

_SLAM! "You can never do anything right!"_

_"Behave you insolent child!"_

The violin almost dropped. Why was his mind tormenting him with such memories?! He commanded the brilliant brain of his to stop, but it just kept coming.

The violin wouldn't drown out the noise. He finally gave it up, and pushed back the pain, forcing his heart to stop feeling and turn back to stone. But all of the whispers crippled and broke the beating flesh, and he clutched his chest.

_"Go away Sherlock, we don't want you to play."_

_"Yeah, you and your stupid 'deduction skills', ha, ha, ha!"_

_"You think you're better than us?"_

No…he never thought that…not then…

_"Just go away, Sherlock!"_

_"Not now son, I'm busy."_

_"I don't have time to listen to you boy."_

"Damn it," Homes clenched his teeth, his vision blurring.

Finally, the cold stone recovered and clenched over his heart as he was able to repress the memories once more. It was strange, ever since Watson's engagement to Mary he had been feeling worse than ever…

* * *

_Young Sherlock, only 8 years old, walked up to his mother and smiled,_

_"Mommy, look what I made!" he held up a clever contraption. "It can--"_

_"Not now, boy," his mother snapped at him, "Go away, I'm busy."_

_Sherlock's smile faded. "Mommy, why don't you ever have time for me?"_

_His mother glared, "Why can't you listen to your mother? I said _go away_, boy!"_

_Young Sherlock gasped as she held up her hand in an attempt to smack him. He just nodded and ran off._

_That night, he tried showing his brother and father. But got the same result. Only with Mycroft, the contraption he had worked so hard on was smashed to pieces._

_Sherlock sighed. Why did everyone hate him?_

_"Sherlock," his mother called sharply. Sherlock walked over. "Go outside and tell Mycroft that dinner is on the table."_

_Sherlock eagerly ran out and did as he was told._

_Maybe if he obeyed his parents they would like him…_

* * *

Watson opened the door to find Holmes on the chair. He blinked in shock.

Holmes had tears running down his face, fidgeting in the chair. He was dreaming.

"Holmes?" Watson called, shaking his friend.

Holmes opened his eyes with a gasp, "I'm sorry!"

He blinked repeatedly, and looked up at Watson. He saw the worry and confusion clouding the doctor's friendly eyes, and the stone cracked again. Watson was the only one who bothered to care about him in his life, giving him the first friendly smile he had ever received.

"Are you alright?" Watson asked quietly.

"Y-yes," Holmes nodded, cursing to quiver in his voice. He wiped the tears in his eyes, "Just a dream, just a dream." He summoned up a smile as the horrid memories that had attacked him once more faded when he looked into those familiar hazel eyes.

Watson was unconvinced however. Holmes never cried. It wasn't 'just a dream'. Something was wrong.

"Holmes," he said warningly, "Tell me what that dream was about."

"It's just a memory now," Holmes shook his head, standing.

"A memory?"

Watson received a nod this time. "A childhood memory." And that was all he could get.

Watson shook his head slowly. It must have been a bad memory to make him cry like that. He looked like a little boy.

Holmes saw the curiosity and worry on his friend's face. Watson wanted to know what the memory was about…should he tell him? He could always tell Watson anything…but he didn't want to see the sadness in the doctor's eyes. He hated that. If there was one person that Holmes had absolutely no desire to harm, it was Watson. He couldn't tell him.

"Holmes."

Holmes looked back at Watson. His eyes were pleading now. He wanted to help.

"I…" his teeth clenched."I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you wouldn't be able to take it."

Ah. He didn't think about his words. Watson was more than able to take it.

"What?"

Too late.

"Holmes, you know you can tell me anything. For God's sake, why wouldn't I be able to take it?"

The pain welled up and the whispers started. Holmes swayed, putting a hand on the chair for support.

"Holmes?!"

Watson's arms were around him, and the whispers stopped. Holmes didn't say anything, finding the reason for the pain now.

Watson. He needed him more than the doctor knew. He needed someone to give him a friendly smile every day, he needed someone to berate him about his bad habits…he needed someone to expel the cold darkness that hovered over his mind and stone cold heart. He was alone, slowly slipping away every moment.

_Tell him, _a voice whispered, _if you tell him, he'll stay won't he? He'll have to. _

Oh, Holmes would love that more than anything. He whispered,

"I…was 6 at the time."

Watson sat him down, and did the same across from him.

Holmes continued:

"I think that time I had asked mother for a hug…yes, that was it. My mother didn't like that, so she slapped me. And then my father heard, and he said that I didn't deserve any affection after what I had done. I didn't know what I had done exactly, but I'm guessing it was something bad. So, my father grabbed me by the hair and threw me into the doorway, ordering me to my room. I did so, and he locked the door. I didn't eat that night, or the next morning. Finally at lunch my father let me out, and I was allowed to eat. Mycroft was beside me that day, and he suddenly snatched my food and gave it to the dog. But my parents pretended not to notice. When I told them what he did, they yelled at me. My father growled at me, 'how can you blame your brother for something he didn't do? How terrible of you, Sherlock!' and he pushed me. I fell to the floor. Back then I couldn't hold my emotions back, so I cried. But my mother showed no sympathy. Neither did Mycroft, nor my father. They all just ignored me. I ended up staying in my room the whole day after saying sorry about 10 times. And then you woke me up."

Watson was shocked into silence. Holmes turned to him finally, having looked at the fire,

"But it's just a memory now old boy. I have you now, my friend."

Guilt surged through Watson's heart. "You forget my engagement, Holmes."

Holmes blinked, "Oh…right…well then, I have you for now." He smiled, but Watson noticed it quiver.

"Has anyone ever loved you before?" Watson asked finally after a few moments.

"No. You're my first friend."

So, he didn't have anyone until he reached his adult years? Watson couldn't even imagine the loneliness. He said quietly,

"I'm sorry you had such a life."

"Ah, you shouldn't apologize. It wasn't your fault." Holmes stood and stretched. Watson stood as well.

They barely talked for the rest of the day. Holmes started regretting ever telling Watson anything.

* * *

It was the day of Watson's wedding. Holmes was there as the Best Man. He watched as Watson fully slipped through his fingers.

If only he knew how much Holmes needed him…

But he smiled a bit, wishing his now former companion good luck. The pain was his and his alone. Even he knew not to put it on other people, especially the person whom he cared for the most.

* * *

**Liked it? I hoped you did! Bri, if you're reading this, WE MISS YOU! Review please everyone! Tell me what you think!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Sing Me a Song Chapter 24**

**Song: Say Goodbye by Skillet**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: sorry I haven't updated in a while, I'm going through a Phantom of the Opera and Love Never Dies (Phantom Sequel) phase XD anyway, I was just listening to this, and suddenly I get this image of Holmes and Watson in my head! So I rushed in here and here I am!!! Hope you enjoy!**

It was deadly silent as the words hung in the living room of 221b.

"_I'm moving in with Mary."_

Surely he jested! Just yesterday, he had given him that special smile he always gave to _her_, and he had almost completely ignored her!

But as Holmes looked at him in shock and slight desperation, he knew that, deep down, he knew that this day would come…he couldn't believe that the time had gotten away from him. How could he let Watson slip through his fingers like this?

Watson opened his mouth, but Holmes just hardened his features and held up a hand to make him shut up. He didn't want to hear it again. He didn't want this to end. Why did this have to end? Why?

Watson sighed and Holmes lowered his hand. Grey brown eyes closed and a sigh escaped Holmes' lips as well before he reopened them.

It hurt him to the core to say it, but he felt an obligation to do it.

"I hope…you're happy with her."

_Happy like we were…_

Watson offered a small smile and held out his hand. Holmes shook it.

And Watson left with the rest of his bags.

It was only then that Holmes let one tear fall to the cold floor. He sat down in his chair. He needed to think. It was what he did best.

Watson had a life. Holmes respected that, as he had his own. But…Watson was the only precious thing in it. Without him, what was he to do? All he had now was the cases, but where would that lead? It would be an endless cycle that suddenly lost its appeal without Watson.

Holmes took a shaky breath. He should have locked that door and told Watson what he had felt for the last…he couldn't even remember when the love started. The emotion was so foreign to him that he couldn't name it until those heartbreaking words left Watson's lips.

The detective rubbed his temples as he replayed the memories in his head…there were so many…so many happy ones, sad ones, aching ones…they were all aching now…so awful to think about…

Didn't they swear that they wouldn't change last December? That even if Watson had left for something, their feelings for each other wouldn't change? Holmes had seen the love in his companion's eyes…

But, perhaps, Mary had shifted it. Ah, Mary Morstan…

That reminded him…

_**THE NEXT DAY**_

Mary smiled at the note. Watson stared at her in confusion.

"Who is it from?"

"…an acquaintance of mine," Mary put it away. She smiled to him now and kissed him before whispering, "I love you John."

She left the room and Watson picked up the note. He couldn't contain his curiosity.

But before he could look at it, Mary came back in and threw it into the flames of the fire with a playful smile on her face.

The note burned in the fire, its words slowly decaying:

_Mary,_

_Love him. Protect him. Make him happy like he will always make me._

_S.H._

**Like it? Hate it? HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY! REVIEW PLEASE!**


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